roof rack of a car, sending cans of soft drinks
rolling along the road.
Jim Brady finds a challenge in all of that.
"We need to know more about what people
want, what they expect when they come to a
park," he told me. "And in that regard, rang
ers today must have a feeling not only for
nature, but also for people. We must be able
to communicate."
Raised in an urban environment, Brady
has an understanding of the problems that
have arisen in Yellowstone and most of the
other national parks. He is, at 32 and with ten
years of service as a ranger, a man of many
skills and wide knowledge. He knows why
and when a bull elk sheds the velvet on its
antlers. He also knows how to investigate
matters as sensitive as drug use in the park.
Rangers are now given such specialized
training as narcotics control, because many
of the social and environmental ills of the city
have spread into the national parks. There is
crime in the campgrounds and the threat of
pollution in the forests.
"The rate of increase of crime in the parks
now exceeds the national average," I was
told by Lawrence C. Hadley, an assistant
director of the Park Service.
"There are
assaults and robberies, but mostly they're
crimes against property, such as vandalism
and theft."
Within the past year, Hadley said, the Park
Service has developed a program of highly
sophisticated training in law enforcement for
rangers. The 12-week courses are held in
Washington, D. C., and cover such tactics as
judo and karate. In addition, there is a special
force of U. S. Park Police ready to be flown
from the Nation's Capital anywhere in the
country; they can help regain control of
situations such as the one that occurred in
Yosemite on July 4, 1970, when 500 youths
battled with rangers-and won, until rein
forcements arrived and arrests were made
the following day.
Young Wanderers Flock to Yellowstone
Unlike Yosemite, Yellowstone is too far re
moved from urban centers to be plagued by
motorcycle gangs on weekend outings. Also,
troublemakers seem drawn to parks in areas
blessed with more sun and warmth. Thus has
Yellowstone been spared some of the more
serious problems.
"A lot of footloose youngsters come to Yel
lowstone, but relatively few give us trouble,"
Brady said.
"Unfortunately, many of the
young people in the park expect to be har
assed when they see a ranger. That's why he
must know how to communicate, to let the
kids know they'll be treated fairly."
The surge of young people into Yellowstone
began several years ago. Some arrive by
motorcycle, others in anything from old
hearses to stand-up-drive vans once used for
milk and mail delivery. But many hitchhike.
On almost any summer day, the roads of
Yellowstone are fringed with uplifted thumbs.
I talked with many men and women of
college age there and found that, with few
exceptions, they share a keen appreciation of
the gifts offered by this giant among national
parks. Shouldering packs, they strike out
along the more than 1,000 miles of trails with
the exuberance of frontiersmen. And seldom
does a summer night pass without a guitar
plunking somewhere in the hinterland.
Backcountry Beckons to Only a Few
Except for these young people, not many
visitors venture away from the roads and
established campgrounds. Rather, they con
centrate activities within an area covering
no more than 5 percent of the park. In con
versations with dozens of people who entered
Yellowstone in the summer of 1971, I came to
realize that the great majority prefer the
company of others. The choice is for a camp
site in the midst of 200 other campsites
instead of a sleeping bag back where nothing
stirs save sweet grasses ruffled by the wind.
"You hear it all the time now, that the
crowds have ruined the park," said a middle
aged Californian with whom I shared a table
in the dining room of the venerable Old
Faithful Inn. "But the people who say that
forget one thing: It's not ruined for those who
like crowds."
Still, Park Superintendent Jack K. Ander
son is making great efforts to disperse the
visitors over a larger area of the preserve. In
1971 some 7,000 visitors hiked off the main
roads to camp out at least one night. "The
number is increasing," he said, "and that,
really, is what the future of Yellowstone is all
about." One-way and bypass roads have been
created to ease congestion around such at
tractions as Old Faithful, where more than
2,000 persons may gather in summer to
watch an eruption (pages 616-17). For motor
ists passing but not wishing to stop, delays
are now reduced.
"And when the three new parking lots are
completed," he told me, "the situation will
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